Unanswered Questions
by Ice Bear
Summary: A woman shows up at Major Crimes who could answer the question Jim has been asking himself since he was 8. But does he really want to ask?
1. Chapter 1

Unanswered Questions

He wondered if there was an increase in crime, or if he was just feeling the hours more. The thought caused him to shake his head in amusement, 'that's what I get for listening to Sandburg. He's even got me convinced I'm getting old! Just because a guy has seen 40 doesn't mean he's ready for the old folks' home yet, at least I hope not.' With a half smile on his face, he filled his "Anthropologists do it in the Dirt" coffee mug, and headed back to his desk and a pile of reports.

He entered the Major Crimes bullpen immersed in his thoughts – jerked back to reality abruptly when he realized someone was sitting at his desk. The head came up, and the blue eyes frosted over. Nobody sat at Jim Ellison's desk with the exception of himself and his Guide. 'Sandburg said it was a territorial thing, and it may well be, but it's my territory.'

"May I help you?" The words came out like a blast of cold air off Lake Michigan in January. Megan was sure the recipient was going to get frostbite.

"Jimmy, is that anyway to greet your mother," the elegantly dressed woman responded rising from the chair.

"My what?" he sputtered, reeling back as though he'd been clubbed.

"Come now Jimmy, there's no need to cause a scene," the woman cleared the desk, and the normally imposing detective took a step back. Every eye in the bullpen was now on the two. No one had ever seen Ellison retreat, so the scene had their full attention.

"I don't know who the hell you are, but this is not funny. Get out before I have you thrown out," his words were hoarse; the growl in them backing up the tense body.

"Darling, you know it's me, come now."

"I wouldn't know my mother if I ran her over. Now get out." He finished in a hiss, before retreating to his Captain's empty office, and closed the door.

"I think you should do as he says," Joel Taggart said, placing himself between the intruder and the door, "Inspector Connor will show you out."

Jim slumped against the closed door, eyes closed tightly against the pain coursing through his head. He didn't move until he heard the woman get into a car.

"Jim," Taggart called out as he entered the office to find his colleague staring out the windows, "you alright?" He reached out a hand to comfort the younger man, but stopped as he sensed that Jim had a slim hold on his emotions that his touch could shatter it.

"Don't know," was the pained response.

Simon Banks walked into his office at that moment, annoyed it was not vacant. "Get the hell out of my office – you both have desks, I suggest you use them."

"Captain," Joel barked, but Jim was already headed for the door.

"Joel, what's going on?" Banks' had gotten a glimpse of his top detective's face, and gone from miffed to worried in an instant. He had never seen Jim Ellison look fragile before.

"Don't know," he said repeating Jim's words. "Some woman showed up, said she was Jim's mom and he went…"

"His mother," Simon interrupted, "Oh my god. Call the garage - they have to stop him!" He ran for the elevator as he yelled. He was too late, and Ellison's truck was gone. He did not answer his cell or respond to repeated radio calls.

"What's going on Simon?" Joel asked when Banks returned to his office.

"Jim's mother left when he was 7 or 8. He hasn't seen or heard from her since. It's a real difficult issue for him, and I can't being to imagine…" he stopped and grabbed the phone. "Sandburg, its Simon. Look Jim's in trouble…no not the hospital…some woman showed up at the station claiming to be his mother," he paused. "Breathe, Sandburg, breathe. Look he ran out of here like the demons from hell were on his tail, and he's not answering his phone or the radio. I've sent a car over to the loft…okay…if you need anything…yeah…right."

Blair sat in stunned silence for several minutes trying to process the information he'd just been given. He slammed a fist on the desk, and rocketed out of the chair. "Hang on Jim, I'm coming," he whispered as he negotiated the steps at a run.

The Sentinel of the Great City stood at parade rest on a silent stretch of beach as the October sun settled below the far end of the ocean. His thoughts was going 300 miles an hour 'My mother? She couldn't be my mother! But why would she say she was? Why would she show up now?'

His memory took him back to the afternoon he and Stephen had arrived home from school to an empty house. No mother, no note, no phone call, no explanation and nothing but a terse, "you're mother is gone, she will not be mentioned in this house again," from his father. He had held his little brother that night, and for many nights to come, as he cried himself to sleep. He couldn't remember if he had cried over his mother, and that bothered him immensely.

"Jim, Jim come on, man. Don't do this, Jim, not now." Blair pleaded. He'd found his friend at the second place he'd looked. He couldn't say he was shocked to find him zoned, but he was worried about bringing him back. Emotional turmoil tended to send his Sentinel over the edge, but this – this was the mother load of all emotional events, no pun intended. "Jim, you're really scaring me here. Come back, please. I'm here, and I promise I won't let anyone hurt you. You have my word."

"Blair?"

"Right here, big guy. Welcome back. Let's sit down." He helped his friend onto the sand and settled him between his legs, offering his body as shelter. Jim leaned into the protection offered, and the two sat in silence. Jim listening to the reassuring heart beat of his Guide, and Blair running gentle hands over his shoulders and arms as an offer of tangible reassurance.

"She says she's my mother," Jim whispered finally.

Blair wrapped his arms around the muscular chest, "What do you think?" He asked calmly.

"How the hell would I know?" Jim answered, the soft tone taking any sting from the words.

"Did she say what she wanted?"

"Didn't give her a chance."

Later that evening, the two stood on the loft's balcony, beers in hand. "Let's think this through," Blair said as he gently bumped shoulder's with Jim. "Why would someone show up out of the blue more than 30 years later and…"

"Oh my God, Stevie," Jim jerked upright, interrupting. "Blair," Jim's body was so tense, it was humming, "I can't let her hurt him, not again."

"Okay, we'll call him. Is he in town?"

"I…no, I think…East Coast, damn it! Umm, New York or DC." Jim was ripping the paper off his beer bottle at a rapid pace, his entire body shaking from the agitation.

"Okay, we'll try his cell." Blair got the phone, and dialed the number before handing the phone to his partner. He snatching away the beer bottle before it was crushed by the slender fingers.

"Stevie? It's Jim."

"Jimmy, what's wrong?"

"Look…I'm not sure…a woman showed up at the station today claiming to be, to be our mother."

"Jimmy?" The fear and hope in that voice floated clearly across the miles.

"I don't know. Honest to God, Stevie, I don't. I need to find out what's going on. Call your office and the condo. See if she's called or stopped by. Until we figure this out, tell your security Chief and the condo staff that no one is to be allowed in, no one. I'll drop off a photo to your security people tomorrow."

"Okay, I'll make the call and let you know. What about Dad?"

I don't know, Stevie, I'll talk to him."

He slept poorly that night, memories kept crashing through his head leaving him scared and empty. Blair stayed with him after the 3rd nightmare brought him awake screaming.

They picked up pictures of the woman from the Station's security tapes early the next morning, and dropped them off at Ellison Corp and Stephen's condo. When they pulled up in front of William Ellison's house, Jim let his head fall to the steering wheel.

"Want me to come with you?" Blair offered gently, a hand on the back of thick neck kneading the tense muscles.

"Please."

Sally met them at the door with hugs, and then scurried to get coffee. They found William in the dinning room finishing his coffee and the morning paper. "Jimmy? What are you doing here?" The voice was cold and business-like. "You really should call before..." He stopped to look at the photo his son thrust at him. "Who's this?"

"She came to the station yesterday, said she was my mother." Jim's tense body language was reflected in his clipped tone.

"That's ridiculous!" Ellison Senior punctuated this thought by slamming a fist on the table.

"Is it? Is it my mother?"

William looked at the tortured face of his eldest for a long moment, but dropped his eyes to the table when he finally spoke. "It's been 30 years, how would I know?"

"Don't you fuck with me!" Jim roared getting in his father's face. "You were married to the woman for ten years, made love to her at least twice, tell me if it's her."

His father had pulled back at his intensity. "It could be Jimmy, but I can't tell you for sure. I'd have to see her, hear her voice. What does she want?"

"I don't know, I…I told her to leave."

"That's the best way to handle this." William responded, his voice back to business.

"Sure, shove it into the closet, refuse to face it; that will make it go away – just like my senses, right Dad? Thing is, I'm all grown up now, and you don't get to tell me how to deal with it this time."

"Jimmy, please."

"Please what, Dad? What if this woman is who she says she is?" The blue eyes were a mixture of need and helplessness.

"Son, I…if it is your mother, she'll only bring you pain."

A chocked laugh escaped the detective. "News flash, Dad, I have a freaking Ph.D. in pain."

He was halfway down the driveway before Blair caught up with him. "Jim, Jim, please, stop," he begged as he latched onto an arm. "Come on, let me help you." He pulled him into a hug and held him tight as after shocks ran through his body.

At the station, they ran the picture though the national files and came up blank. Jim took a file from his inbox, and began making calls on a robbery case he was working. Understanding his need to regain some control, Blair picked up another file and started an address search. They worked through the day in quiet, companionable silence.

Jim was visited by nightmares again – his mother yelling that she left because she didn't want a freak for a son; that she had wanted Stephen, but not Jim. He managed to wake himself up each time before he cried out. Blair dozed uneasily on the couch, aware of the unrest upstairs, but unwilling to interfere unless it got out of hand.


	2. Chapter 2

_Jim was visited by nightmares again – his mother yelling that she left because she didn't want a freak for a son; that she had wanted Stephen, but not Jim. He managed to wake himself up each time before he cried out. Blair dozed uneasily on the couch, aware of the unrest upstairs, but unwilling to interfere unless it got out of hand._

Part II

Blair taught his classes the next day, and was grading exams in his office when the woman in the picture walked in. "Professor Sandburg, I'm Grace Ellison, Jim's mother.I'm hoping as his brother-in-law, that you can help me out."

"Brother-in-law?"

"The answering machine message says 'Ellison-Sandburg residence', so your sister is my daughter-in-law."

Blair laughed. "I live with Jim. I'm the Sandburg."

"Oh…my…I…"

"You need to leave," Blair said as he regained his footing, "please."

"Professor Sandburg, I need to talk with my son, and since you are…you're close to my Jimmy, I need your help."

"This is between you and Jim. Please leave."

"Look professor, I can make it worth your while." She pulled out a checkbook, and Blair grabbed for the ringing phone like it was lifeline, thanking the numerous gods he knew for their intervention.

"Chief."

"Hey Eli, I thought our appointment was supposed to be at 3:15 pm. You know I hate it when you're late."

"Something's wrong." Jim responded, pressing the gas pedal to the floor.

"That's right, Eli. Remember the topic of yesterday's discussion?"

"Oh my god, she's there!"

"Glad you can retain more than beer. You owe me."

"Look I'm halfway to campus, should I call Security?" Jim leaned forward, urging the truck to go faster.

"No, just hurry up. I hate it when you keep me waiting."

"Chief…Blair, please, be careful."

"Don't worry, I'll be here." He hung up casually, and looked at the woman who had been the star of his roommate's nightmares. She'd left the chair, and was looking at photos of Blair and Jim that sat on top of the file cabinets.

"Ma'am, please, you need to leave. I won't talk to you about Jim."

"But you must. You're his…his friend, and I need his help."

"What do you want from him?" Blair was standing to the side of his desk now, the urge to protect his friend from this woman, suddenly overpowering.

"Oh, that's personal." She smiled brightly at him, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention.

"How do I know you're Jim's mother?"

"Oh, please," she said, taking her seat, "don't be so silly."

"Okay then, why'd you leave?"

"Excuse me, I did not come here to…"

"Exactly why did you come? Certainly you didn't expect Jim to welcome you back with open arms."

"Why shouldn't he?" She sounded offended and that made Blair laugh.

"You left him – he was only 8. And you didn't even say goodbye. Hell lady, you didn't even leave a note." He was yelling, but he didn't care. This woman had hurt Jim, and he wasn't going to stand by, and let her do it again.

"Is that what he told you?"

"It's the truth, isn't it?"

"Look, clearly you have no intention of helping..."

"Neither do you," Blair spat back, enraged. "Leave Jim alone. You've already done enough damage. I won't let you do any more."

"How dare you?"

"That the best you got, lady? Come on."

"I can't believe my son sleeps with, with you…you…," she was screaming, "I raised him better."

"You seem to have forgotten that you didn't raise me at all. You left that to someone else." Jim said in a firm, quiet voice, startling both occupants of the room. The big man moved swiftly to his partner's side, and placed a hand on his back. "You okay?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Jimmy," the woman squawked, "now that you're here, we can talk. Just send your…friend away."

"I doubt you have anything to say that I want to hear. And this is Blair's office, so if anyone is leaving, it's you."

"Jim, if you want to talk with her..." Blair said Sentinel soft.

"What is it you want from me?" He demanded as Blair slipped closer in a show of support.

"Is that any way to talk to your mother?" She said, ignorantly believing she had gained the upper hand.

"Lady, I don't know you from Adam, but you seem intent on telling me something so let's just get it over with." Jim's face was locked down, his eyes iced over.Only Blair could feel the tremors rippling though the solid body.

"We have so many things to talk about...why I bet you still have that scar on your left thigh from your first try at a two wheeler." She smiled serenely.

"I have a number of scars there – from a helicopter crash, not a bike accident."

"Why Jimmy, what were you doing in a helicopter?"

"I was in the Army."

"Oh my, so my baby was a military man."

"What do you want?" Jim restated.

"Jimmy, it's really quite personal," she said motioning to Blair.

"Anything you have to say to me you can say to him." And he relaxed minutely at the warm smile Blair shot him.

"Honey, I need some money. My husband has a gambling problem, and he's in pretty deep with some men who have threatened to hurt him."

"How much?"

"$250,000"

"You're kidding right? I'm a cop for God sake!"

"Look, I know it's a lot, but you haven't touched your trust fund so…"

"Excuse me?"

"Your trust fund. The one you're father set up when you were born."

"I know about my trust fund. What's this about my not touching it?"

"Don't play games with me, Jimmy. I did my homework. My guess is you don't want his money – so give it to me. Besides, you'll have plenty left over. The way you live, it's not like you need it, and think about the wonderful irony – me getting Bill's money."

"You waltz in here out of the blue, 30 years later and expect me to hand over a quarter of a million dollars – I'll give you this lady, you got balls."

"You owe me," she responded bitterly, all pretence of politeness gone.

"I don't owe you squat." He responded in the same tone he used to let perps know he was done playing.

"Look, I may not have been much of a mother…"

"You got that right," Jim muttered.

"But I made sure I married a wealthy man so you would have a good home."

Both men stared at her – identical looks of confusion on both faces.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Blair finally asked.

"That maybe Bill Ellison's oldest son is Stephen." Blair wanted to smack the smug look off her face so badly.

"You're lying!" Jim roared.

"Am I? It'll cost you $250,000 to find out. I'll leave my number."

As soon as she was out the door, Blair pushed Jim into a chair. He was afraid his partner was going to collapse. He knelt beside him. "Jim, just breathe with me. Come on, in – that's it - and out.You're doing great. In and out, that's it." Blair kept it up for several more minutes, hoping to restore some color to the ashen face, and thaw the ice from the blue eyes. Jim absently patted Blair's shoulder before standing up and beginning to pace.

"Was she lying?" Blair asked.

"Not sure. Her heart beat was pretty fast throughout – no real spikes – my guess is the whole sob story is a scam."

"How could she find out about the trust fund?"

"I'm thinking that she came here expecting to find me at Ellison Corp in a senior position. When she found out I was a cop, she probably made a stab at putting two and two together – saw my truck, probably drove by the loft – and figured out I hadn't touched the money."

"You, ah, never mentioned you were a trust fund baby…"

Jim smiled slightly. "I've never touched it. Not sure why, but once it was clear I could make it on my salary, I figured I'd save it for when I couldn't be a cop anymore. Sort of like my own "rainy day" fund."

"Is there $250,000 in it?"

"More."

"You going to talk to your dad again."

"No point. If what she says is true, he wouldn't know anyway."

"You know trying to shake down a cop is not the brightest thing you could do."

"That's why I'm thinking she didn't know I was a cop til she got here."

"Why approach you at all, then?"

"Beats me, Chief. You ready to go home?"

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

"_You know trying to shake down a cop is not the brightest thing you could do."_

_"That's why I'm thinking she didn't know I was a cop til she got here."_

_"Why approach you at all, then?"_

_"Beats me, Chief. You ready to go home?"_

_Part III_

Jim was torn. As a child, he had held close to his heart a fantasy that some day his mother would come back and take care of him - just like she had before she left. And while he was no longer a child, a part of him still longed for a mother who would hold him and comfort him and be proud of him. But this woman – not only did she not seem motherly - she was trying to blackmail him. 'Why is it that everything I touch turns out so twisted?'

"Jim – Simon's here." Blair called from the living room. Jim came in from the balcony, and accepted a beer.

Jim, I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't…"

"It's okay, Simon. After all it is your office." The smile showed the apology was accepted. "Could you have this dusted for prints?" He handed over the card she'd put her cell phone number on.

"Sandburg's filled me in. What do you say about a little wire action?" Jim and Blair shared a puzzled look. "I think you should meet with your mother, start asking questions – things you remember from your childhood – drag it out a little why we figure out who she is and what game she's really playing."

"No!" Blair came up off the couch and began a frantic pacing of the room. "You can't – Jim, please don't put yourself out there like this. She's trying to hurt you. Hell, she already has just by showing up. Don't give her any more power over you." The Guide desperately wanted to protect his Sentinel from this woman.

"What if Sandburg was with me? She thinks Sandburg is my, ah, my lover. She called here and got the machine – you know Ellison-Sandburg residence. She put two and two together and got five."

"Damn Jim, I was hoping you missed that part of the conversation," Blair said with a laugh before flopping down beside him on the couch.

"So, I tell her that I'd like her to share her memories of my childhood – short though they may be – with me and my 'lover.' Only way she'll get the money. And it'll tell us if she is, in fact, my mother. Plus that way I have backup."

"You in Sandburg?" Simon asked.

The next night they met the woman at a restaurant for dinner. She had not been happy, but Jim had carefully explained that he needed some closure on his childhood before he would turn over the money. She ordered only the most expensive things on the menu and a rather pricy bottle of wine. Sandburg had to hide a smirk – the department was picking up the tab after all - seems blackmailing cops was frowned upon in the Great City.

Jim started out with simple questions – did she remember bringing home Stevie from the hospital; what about his first day of kindergarten? Her answers were very nonspecific, and she kept asking Jim to expand on what he remembered – essentially trying to glean enough from his words to fake it. He remained on an even keel throughout the evening, stopping just this side of the doting son. Sandburg played his part with squeezes and pats and other displays of physical affection.

Simon met them back at the loft, but had to wait until Jim got out of the shower. He felt compelled to be clean after the time spent with that woman. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Sir," he said joining them.

"What did you learn?"

"I don't know who she is, but she's not my mother."

"Care to explain?"

"The only information she shared, she parroted back to me. A major flaw in the plan was my being a cop and not a hot shot businessman who would pay just to shut her up. So she had to play along – but she's not that good an actress. Anything on the prints?"

"Nothing on NCIC, so I asked for a state by state starting with the West Coast. Should know the results tomorrow."

"I want this over with, Simon," Jim said, his voice giving away his true state of being. "Enough's enough. I'll arrange a drop tomorrow, and then let's haul her in." He didn't know what else to say. He was disappointed, in some way he couldn't quite categorize, that this woman was not his mother. He knew he shouldn't be, and that made him angry at himself. It was just so fucked up.

"Jim, we have enough to take her now. You don't have to be there." Simon was worried about the emotional health of his friend and top detective. He knew he had only an inkling of how hard this was on the man.

"No. By the book, Simon. I need to see what she has to say about my father."

"Jim, please don't…" Blair didn't know what else to say. "She's lied about everything else, why let her play you on this point?" Jim shrugged in response, before heading for the phone. He made the call, and set the meeting for a park near the loft.

He also called Stephen, and told him that the woman was not their mother. He reassured his younger brother gently, and made it clear that blackmailing was not really a trait they wanted in the family anyway. Then he took a beer out onto the balcony, and settled into a chair, his eyes lost in the stars.

"You going to bed?" Blair asked an hour later.

"Not right now, Chief. But go ahead, I'll see you in the morning."

"Jim?"

"I'm fine, Sandburg, honest. Just have some thinking to do, and as you know, that is your strong suit, not mine." He tried for a light tone, but his Guide was not fooled.

"Bullshit. You're one of the smartest people I know."

"Blair, please, just go to bed. I'll be fine, I promise, and if I need to talk, I know where to find you." The anthropologist took hold of both shoulders for a minute before leaving him to the night. Jim stayed on the balcony, watching the stars, trying to figure it all out.

Blair brought him coffee in the morning. "You alright?"

"Think so."

"Find any answers?"

"None I liked," he admitted, as he sipped his coffee. "Sometimes I think I must be wearing a sign that says 'kick me' for all the cosmos to see. I'm not sure what about this case makes me maddest – the fact that she isn't my mother or that she had me doubting who my father was. After all these years, who knew I would react so emotionally? And I understand now that's all this has been about – the idea that she is still out there somewhere…wondering and worrying about me. Pretty stupid."

"No. Not at all. I figured her showing up had to feel like all your childhood fantasies come to life – well except the blackmail angle – but to have this woman, claiming to be your mother, suddenly reappear, and maybe get the answers to all those questions…I don't think its stupid at all, man. I think its' human."

"Think she might know my mother, and that's where the idea came from?"

"Big guy, I don't think it will be that easy." Blair's heart wept for the lost eight year old looking out his friend's sad eyes.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

_No. Not at all. I figured her showing up had to feel like all your childhood fantasies come to life – well except the blackmail angle – but to have this woman, claiming to be your mother, suddenly reappear, and maybe get the answers to all those questions…I don't think its stupid at all, man. I think its' human."_

"_Think she might know my mother, and that's where the idea came from?" _

"_Big guy, I don't think it will be that easy." Blair's heart wept for the lost eight year old looking out his friend's sad eyes._

_Part IV_

In a small waterside park, Jim stood facing the woman, a battered gym bag in hand. "I have your money." The older woman looked at him. He could hear her heart racing, and it brought a smile to his lips. 'you better be uncomfortable about this' he thought as he watched her closely.

"Don't you want to know who your father is?" She asked, holding out her hand for the money.

"I already know." Jim responded, handing over the gym bag. She smiled at him.

"Thank you, Jimmy, you always were a good boy."

Jim held out his hand as though to shake, and she took it. He put the cuffs on. "You are under arrest for blackmail, extortion and identity theft. You have the right to remain silent …" Rafe and H appeared and took over.

At the station, after the suspect was booked, she was taken to an interrogation room. They left her there for 30 minutes with a police woman, while they debated how to play it. Jim was insistent that he do the questioning, and Simon reluctantly agreed, as long as he was also in the room.

Twenty minutes into the questioning, which was getting nowhere fast, Jim heard a familiar voice from behind the one way glass. "Oh my god, that's Evie!" William Ellison gasped. "She's Grace's younger sister – she was bout 12 when we got married. Oh my god."

Jim looked at the suspect as a predatory smile spread across his face, causing Simon to sit up. He knew Ellison was on to something. "So Evie, a little blackmail on the nephews. Can't get much lower then that, now can you?"

The woman's head shot up, and she stared at the big cop. "What?"

"We have positive ID, Evie. Now the big question is, did your sister put you up to this, or did you dream it up all by yourself." Jim was clearly focused on his prey, and moving in for the kill.

"Grace got remarried years ago to some guy with more money then even Ellison. She can't be bothered with us little people back home. I was cleaning out the attic and found a box of her things. I did a little checking, and figured Ellison Corp was worth some cash. Never figured Grace Ellison's perfect little boy, Jimmy, would stoop to something as common as police work. I was in too deep by then, so I went with it."

"Do you know where she is?" Jim asked.

"She has four or five kids already, I doubt she wants to be bothered by a stray like you," Evie spat out viciously.

"Well, you might want to contact your wealthy sister because you are going to need a very expensive lawyer to keep you out of jail. Blackmail and extortion carry minimum sentences of 8 years – add fraud, identity theft– I'd say 12 to 15 minimum. You'll be a real old lady when you get out." Jim smiled his feral smile again, and left the room.

"Jimmy?" William Ellison called as soon as the door closed.

"Dad, thanks for coming down."

"Are you okay, son?" He moved to stand next to the younger man, and hesitated a long moment before pulling him into a fragile hug. "I'm so sorry she put you through this."

Jim returned the hug, before pulling away. "She didn't get to Stevie, and we stopped her, so it worked out okay." His eyes sought his Guide, who had hung back.

That night at the loft, Jim again retreated to the balcony. Blair joined him with two cups of hot chocolate. "You doing alright, big guy?" He asked as he settled into a chair.

"I don't know, Blair. Part of me wants to hunt my mother down and find out what the hell happened all those years ago. The other part knows that whatever she has to say won't change one hour of my past. And the fact is, if she hadn't left, my home life might have been more bearable, assuming she and Dad didn't have me institutionalized. And then I probably wouldn't have joined the Rangers to escape home, and I wouldn't have been in Peru and my senses wouldn't have reactivated….so maybe in this instance, it's simply better to let sleeping dogs lie."

"Jim, you sure that's how you want to play this?" Blair agreed with the assessment, but he, also, knew that this wasn't the closure the man needed.

"Do you think talking to her will change anything?" The question was tentative, but the hurt in the blue eyes was large and loud and almost overwhelming. It told Blair what he needed to know. His partner was a man of action, not words, and all he had just spouted had been just that, words.

"I don't know if it will change anything, Jim, but it would put the issue to rest, once and for all."

Jim left the loft early the next morning, leaving Sandburg still asleep. He drove aimlessly for 20 minutes before heading to his father's house. Sally let him in, and he found his old man in the dining room. "Dad?"

"Jimmy! Everything alright?"

Jim sat down at the table, and looked at his father for a long moment. "Why did mom leave?"

"Jimmy, not this again!" His father ordered.

"The last time I asked you this question, I was eight. I think I'm entitled to answer."

"Jimmy, I don't know what you think…"

"I think that I need closure Dad. And I can do that one of two ways. You can tell me, or I can go to Charleston and get the answer from my mother. Your choice, Dad."

William came out of his chair. "Don't you threaten me, you ungrateful bastard!"

"Good choice." Jim said quietly before leaving.

Back at the loft he found his partner enjoying his coffee. Blair took one look at the older man, and cringed. "Jim?"

"Just visited my Dad."

"I take it the visit didn't go well, man."

"Understatement of the year. What would you say to a trip to Charleston, South Carolina?"

"You found her?"

Jim nodded, his eyes tight on his coffee mug. "Would you come with me…please?"

Blair reached over to lift up the iron jaw, and smiled warmly. "Wouldn't miss it."


	5. Chapter 5

_Back at the loft he found his partner enjoying his coffee. Blair took one look at the older man, and cringed. "Jim?"_

"_Just visited my Dad."_

"_I take it the visit didn't go well, man."_

"_Understatement of the year. What would you say to a trip to Charleston, South Carolina?" _

"_You found her?" _

_Jim nodded, his eyes tight on his coffee mug. "Would you come with me…please?"_

_Blair reached over to lift up the iron jaw, and smiled warmly. "Wouldn't miss it."_

Part V

Four days later, they settled in at a nice hotel in the old part of Charleston. Jim was restless and uncommunicative – had been ever since he'd located his mother. Blair pulled out a map from the hotel's directory, and suggested he take a run. That brought him a smile.

Jim ran through the old city, not really taking in the beautiful homes and amazing gardens. He stopped at the Battery long enough to look out to the sea, and then headed for the neighborhood where his mother lived. He ran by the place – a lovely old home on a tree lined street, set back beyond a lovely garden. Then he headed back to the hotel.

"So, did you see the house?" Blair asked casually from the desk where he was working on his computer.

"Am I that predictable?" Jim asked with an embarrassed shrug.

"Only to me, big guy, only to me."

The next day, at noon, he pulled the rental car up in front of the house, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He steeled himself for battle and forced himself to walk up the front steps. The door was opened, before he could ring, by an older woman with long white hair done up in a braid around her head.

"James?" she whispered, blue eyes meeting his.

"Jim Ellison," he said woodenly, sticking out his right hand, unable to take his eyes off the face in front of him. She grabbed his hand gently around the wrist, and led him into the house.

She settled him on a sofa in a comfortable parlor looking over the back garden. She took a chair beside him. "I apologize for bothering you," he began softly.

"James, I am glad you called," she said with a gentle smile. "Let me get us something to drink, and then we'll talk."

He sat stunned on the couch, a thousand questions running through his head, all the while he tracked her heartbeat – something he only ever did with Blair. She returned with a tray of ice tea and finger sandwiches, and settled herself back in her chair.

"I imagine you must have a thousand questions. I know I do," she said with a small laugh. "Would you like to start, or shall I?"

"Why did you leave me?" The question startled Jim, when he realized he'd asked it. He immediately looked down at his hands in his lap.

"James, look at me, please." The head came up and the handsome face turned toward the voice. "I am so very sorry, for everything. I was young and made some very foolish decisions, but that, as they say, is history."

Jim stood up abruptly. "I'm sorry, this wasn't a good idea." But she stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

"It is a very good idea. Just a couple of decades too late. Please sit down." She waited until he obeyed, and then she continued. "I was madly in love with your father, and having you and Stephen made my life complete. Then your father started working late, or that's what he called it. Turned out he was having an affair with his secretary. I found out, and called him on it, and he begged my forgiveness. We went on for a while, and things were fine. Then it started again, and I decided two could play at that game. You're father never thought the rules applied to him, so when he found out I was being unfaithful, he kicked me out and told me that if I ever came near you boys or the house again, he'd have me arrested, and there would be no alimony. So I left."

"You, you just walked out on us. Stevie cried for a month…I." Jim was up off the couch and pacing, his anger and bewilderment too much to allow him to be still. "I thought you loved us."

"I did, James. I still do, funny as that sounds. But your father was a powerful man, and a bitter divorce – where he held all the cards – would have made it worse for you boys. It was bad enough to have your mother disappear, what if she'd been labeled an unfit mother to the entire City?"

"You didn't fight for your children." He said hoarsely, half statement, half question.

"No, I did not."

"And you didn't try to find us once – not even when we left home?"

"I didn't think you needed me to complicate your lives."

"Thank you," he said, his back to where she sat, "that is all I needed to know." And then he was out the door and in the car, before she could stop him.

He returned to the hotel by necessity, as he knew of nowhere else to go. When he entered the room, Blair took one look and moved to hold him, pulling him down on the small couch. Jim began to shake, and buried his head on Blair's chest. The tears dampened both shirts, but the older man never emitted a sound. "Oh Jim, I'm so sorry," Blair murmured, "so very sorry."

He led the exhausted man to one of the beds, once the shaking stopped and tucked him in gently. "Just rest for a little bit, okay. Then we'll talk, just rest now." He turned on the white noise generator and helped him on with his sleep mask, before returning to the desk and his computer. "You bitch," he seethed, "I hope you burn in hell right along side William Ellison."

When Jim woke, it was just becoming dark, and Blair was reading on the other bed. "Chief?"

"Hey big guy," he responded fondly, before getting up and moving to sit on Jim's bed. "How you feeling?"

"Tired."

"How bout dinner, and then we'll call it a night."

"Not really hungry."

"I know, but you haven't eaten anything in almost three days. I made a reservation downstairs in the restaurant – you have time to shower."

Jim toyed with his soup, but settled down some by the time his main course arrived. Blair was telling a story about one of his students when he realized Jim was focused on the front of the room. "What's wrong?" He asked quietly, a hand on Jim's wrist.

"That man at the desk is asking about us." Jim was intent on the conversation, and tensed when the maitre'd led the man to their table.

"Mr. Ellison, Mr. Sandburg, I apologize for interrupting your dinner."

"What can we do for you Mr.?" Blair asked.

"Mr. Roberts, Ben Roberts." Jim growled, and only Blair's hand on his arm kept him at the table. "I'm sorry," Roberts said again, sliding into the vacant chair, "but my wife is very upset about your meeting today, worried you have the wrong impression about what happened."

"They both cheated, he called her on it. Said alimony would go out the window if she contested the divorce, so she left. And never felt enough for me or Stevie to try and contact us – even after we left home." The devastated eight year old that still lived deep inside James Ellison said the words softly, with no emotion. The blue eyes, however, held all the hurt and pain he lived with. "Did I forget anything?" His voice suddenly challenging.

Roberts looked to Blair for help, but none was coming from that quarter. Blair's blue eyes blazed at the man for putting his friend through this. "You didn't forget the facts, but there are a number of details that you should know, before you make a final decision about your mother."

"She is not my mother," Jim's voice was low and cold, "she is just the woman who had me."

"Please, son…"

"I am NOT your son," Jim yelled, coming out of the chair so fast he knocked it over. He swept around Blair, and was gone.

"Please, Mr. Sandburg, my wife was beside herself when I got home. She said she got it horribly wrong, and needed to talk with James again. She does not want to hurt him. She doesn't. But she needs him to understand that she was powerless against Ellison. He had the money and the power. Believe me when I tell you she has regretted not facing down William Ellison. When James called, she was so happy to think that her boy had not given up on her, and she was…."

"You don't get it do you?" Blair asked softly. "Jim was eight years old when she left him alone to take care of his brother and survive his father. Yet, he never gave up hope that his mother loved him…Why didn't she get in touch with him when he was older, after he left home? Or when he got back from Peru? His face was everywhere – he would have been easy to find.

"He wanted to know why his mother left - you're wife told him he wasn't worth fighting for. Nothing anyone has to say is going to change that fact, or the way he feels. So if you'll excuse me, I need to check on my partner." He rose to leave, but turned back. "And stay away from Jim, he doesn't deserve any more pain."

He stopped at the front desk to make sure no calls would be put through, and that their room number would not be given out, before going upstairs. Jim was on the small balcony looking out at the river. "Hey, big guy." He whispered, so as not to startle him, before slipping his arms around the trim waist.

"I called the airline and moved our flights – we can go out tomorrow at 2 pm. That alright with you?"

"Good idea. You want to pack tonight?'

"No, we'll have time tomorrow."

Blair knew Jim well enough to know he would come to him when he was ready to talk, so he let it go. He found a baseball game on TV, and they watched for a while in companionable silence before going to bed. He wasn't surprised when he woke up at 3:15 a.m. to see Jim outlined on the balcony. He slipped from his bed and joined him. "You okay, Jim?"

"Don't have a clue, Chief." The bigger man said, head down, body braced against the world.

"Do you want to…let me rephrase that, do you need to talk with her again?"

The whole body stiffened. "She told me she didn't fight for us, so there is nothing left to say. Even if she was afraid of him - his power - like she said, it doesn't explain why she didn't try to contact me after I left home…" The blue eyes searched Blair's face.

"You ready to go back to bed?" Blair wished he had an answer that would take away his friend's pain, but he was not going to try and justify the woman's actions.

"In a few. Didn't mean to wake you."

Jim was still on the balcony when Blair got up at 8 a.m. They ordered room service, and packed while they waited. A note arrived with the breakfast tray, and Jim threw it away, unread.

Blair stood with their bags off to the side while Jim was at the checkout desk. A tall, older woman with white hair came up to him. "Mr. Sandburg?"

He stiffened. "You need to leave, now. You've caused all the pain to that man you are going to. Go!" Blair's reply was soft, but his Sentinel turned – whether it was his voice or his increased heart beat he didn't know - and he felt the knot in his stomach grow when Jim caught sight of the woman.

"Ready, Chief?" He came up and took his bag, pulling Blair away from the woman in the process.

"Let's go, Jim."

"James, wait, please."

He spun around, and stalked up to the woman, invading her space. His voice was low, but the tone made his intent clear. "Let's get one thing straight, lady. You did a really good job of staying out of my life for the last 30 years, so let's just stick with the status quo for the next 30. You come near him or me again, and I'll have you up on harassment charges so fast it'll make your head spin."

Blair went to the driver's side, and slide in before Jim could protest. Once in the car, he pulled away as quickly as possible and headed for the airport. Jim sat with his eyes closed, arms crossed tightly across his chest.

They checked in and went through security without talking. In the waiting area, Jim sought a window in a quiet corner and stared into the surrounding marsh land. Blair settled into a chair nearby that afforded him a view of his Sentinel, while still allowing him to keep watch on the people entering the area.

Back in the loft, Jim unpacked before grabbing a beer and heading to the balcony. Blair took his time, wondering what he could say to help. He joined him an hour later, bringing another beer as his price of admission. Jim flashed him a brief smile, before returning his gaze to the city and the ocean beyond.

"Despite everything my dad did, and didn't, do," Jim said, interrupting the silence, "at least he stayed."

"That doesn't excuse him, Jim." Blair replied softly.

"No…and it doesn't change anything…I just didn't know it could still hurt this much, even after all these years." His head was in his hands as he finished.

"I'm so sorry it didn't turn out the way you hoped. If anyone deserved a happy ending, it's you, big guy." Jim huffed softly. "Maybe having the answers now will at least allow you to move on, beyond the hurt."

"I hope you're right, Chief. God, I hope so."


End file.
